Feather-Light
by Little Knight Mik
Summary: Starting over after having lost so much is a challenge for anyone. Where to begin, where to forget, and where to fight can get jumbled in the fray of travel, friendship, and staying alive. After having lost so much of her old life, Avis seeks to build a new one - a new purpose, a new love, and a new sense of freedom. Fai/OC
1. Beginning

**So here's hoping this takes off decently ^^" I hope my character isn't too Sue-ish, and that she fits in okay with the rest of the group. This story will mainly follow the original plot, aside from a few tweaks and the added side worlds.**

**I hope I do the series's characters justice and that you enjoy the addition of my character ^o^**

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**00 - Beginning**

She barely even recognised the sound of her own voice as the scream tore from her throat. The image of the past ten minutes were still very much fresh in her mind, every second - every sight, every sound - bringing more and more panic within her. It seeped into her very core, her mind forming a single coherent thought.

_He's dead._

All around she could hear the cheers of the crowd, horrified as their roars increased with each second longer her shrieks lasted. She couldn't stop staring at the blood, barely registering the feel of the hands grabbing at her. Tugging at her feathers. Pulling at her hair.

_This is wrong._

She tested her restraints, the golden ring, embedded with those aquamarines that resembled his eyes so much - _a gift from him_ \- suddenly too tight on her ring finger. If she timed it right, she could escape. She could run, perhaps find a new country to settle in. Surely the land of Archiva wouldn't miss her, especially with so many Bellatoran's running around. Her kind wasn't wanted- Wasn't _needed_ anymore.

_Why did he have to die?_

Her brother would be rolling in his grave if he knew what she was going to do, she told herself. She watched as _his_ body was dragged away from the crowd, the result of his public execution barely even hidden from the rowdy crowd. Everywhere was bloody, staining his hair, his clothes, his skin. It was _wrong_.

_Why did he have to suffer for her crime?_

She watched, ignorant to the scratches left on her arms and legs and even her face, as they gracelessly threw his body to the ground. Right in the middle of the crowd. She could barely even hold back her rage as he was suddenly lifted by a portion of the crowd, a pike at the ready as a particularly loud man lifted _his_ head and held it up by bloodstained blonde hair. She screamed at him, called him disrespectful, but was ultimately shouted at by the crowd as she was dragged, kicking and screaming, onto the stage. Her bare feet landed in his blood. The sword was raised as her knees were kicked out from behind her.

_Something had to be done._

She fell to her knees, a rough hand grabbing the back of her neck and forcing her view towards _his_ head; she watched in horror as the beautiful face she'd once seen each and every day since his arrival was impaled upon the spike, then raised high into the air as the crowd demanded more blood.

_Something had to be done NOW._

Before she could stop herself, instincts took over. The magical power she'd grown so used to forcing down, choking back in monk-like patience, was let loose. Sparks flew from her fingers, the hand holding her throat suddenly flying from her. Beneath her feet, the ancient words of her people circled around her - mixing in with _his_ blood. She'd long since forgotten how to read them, but had a general idea of what they were going to do: Kill. Kill everyone who'd come to watch the execution of herself and her lover.

The sword in the air swung down, intending to decapitate her; just as it was about to come in contact with the skin of her neck, she screamed once more - this time with determination, a goal to sound intimidating. Her people once represented death, back in warring times. Death, knowledge, and predatory instinct. The people who had taken her ancestors' land had forgotten this.

_It was time to remind them_.

A shockwave was released from the circle, the words rising from the ground. They circled her, spinning at unreadable speeds, until finally her vision turned foggy. She was unable to see the outcome of what she'd released - unable to see her revenge with a sense of satisfaction. The power was too much. The power was too demanding.

_She needed to run._

Her vision turned white, all sounds gone and all sights missing. The smell of blood clung to her like a leech, curdling her stomach and bringing the taste of bile to her throat. The ring on her finger, once too tight, now felt loose enough to fall off at any second. She clenched her hands tightly, doing everything in her power to keep that ring on, and waited for the white to fade back into the dull grey that was her fate. She didn't know where she was going. She didn't know what awaited her. But one thing was crystal clear in her mind as her lover's death replayed over and over again in her memory.

_She needed a new purpose._

* * *

"...ing for our last guest."

The whiteness was beginning to fade, vision returning in colours - colours she'd never known she'd miss in such a short time. It was colder, too cold for her bare feet, and wet. Rain, she told herself. It'd been a while since she'd last felt raindrops on her skin, but she knew the feeling all too well.

She tightly shut her eyes as soon as her vision became vaguely coherent, scared of what she'd see. She didn't want to see anymore blood, and she didn't want to see anymore Bellatorans.

"Greetings."

She jumped at the voice, belonging to a woman she'd never heard before. The word sounded confident, yet with an air of mystery. She inclined her head toward the voice, but refused to open her eyes.

"Hello," she said quietly. Her throat hurt, the toll of all her screams coming into effect. She rubbed her throat lightly and waited for a response. None came. "Where am I?"

"You're in Japan," the woman's voice replied, once again confident. She wondered who she was talking to, but held back her question to let the woman go on. "For you to be here, it is assumed that you - like the three travelers beside you - have a wish you want me to grant."

A wish... A land called Japan... She remembered hearing of such things, back in her childhood. So, so many years ago...

"Dimensional Witch," she muttered. An amused hum came from the woman, the sound of movement toward her left.

"You know of me? Of my abilities?"

"You grant wishes in return for something precious. Your power is all my people talk about nowadays."

There was a pause as she waited for a confirmation, but when none came, she announced, "I want to make a wish."

The woman let out another hum, this one encouraging her to go on. She let the thought sink in - _she could wish for anything right now_ \- as the possibilities were weighed; she had to choose her wish wisely, as she could end up only hindering herself with a foolish wish. She needed to figure out what her purpose would be.

Before she could stop herself, she blurted out to the Witch, "I wish to find a new purpose in life - a reason to continue existing."

Silence followed, the sound of shifting about coming from all around. The Witch had said there were four others, and from the amount of movement all around her, she assumed she'd appeared right in the middle of them. That may have been a bit rude of her, but in her defense, she'd been unknowing of where she'd end up - or even the state she'd arrive in. Frankly, she was surprised she'd managed to arrive in the Dimensional Witch's domain without passing out from exhaustion yet; it'd been so long since she'd cast two spells of such level, one after another.

"A curious wish, but not one that shall be turned away," the Witch told her. "However, much like the others, it is a difficult one. If paid separately, your wishes would be troublesome to grant. Together, however..." The Witch paused, and she could hear the smile in her voice. "The four of you all have the same wish."

To her left, a gruff voice questioned the Witch. To her right, a light, playful voice - _so much like his_ \- teasingly told the gruff one to silence himself. The Witch went on as though neither had said anything.

"You, child, want to go to different worlds to collect this girl's memories," she listed. "From a different world, you want to go back to your own. And you want to live in a world other than your own. And finally, you want to find a new reason to continue existing. Your intentions are different, but the means are the same; you have different reasons for why you want to go to different worlds. I cannot grant all four of your wishes, but if the four of you each give me a precious item, the four of you can go to different worlds."

Unconsciously, she tightened her left hand. The only thing she had to give, aside from her wings, was that ring - the one thing she had left of her lover aside from the blood coating the soles of her feet and the skin of her knees.

The gruff voice was quick to speak up, the man obviously eager to have the power to travel between worlds. "What do I have to give you?" he demanded.

The Witch hardly skipped a beat, telling him, "That sword."

She opened her eyes slowly, curiosity taking over as the loud man yelled at the Witch. She glanced to her left once her eyes opened fully, ignoring the Witch's form before the group, and took in the appearance of the gruff man beside her. He was dressed entirely in black, even to the hints of armour that showed beneath his cloak. She noticed a few spots of red on his, complimenting his red eyes, and quickly brought her vision toward the sword resting on his shoulder. It was gorgeous, perhaps having seen many battles, and she instantly understood appearance-wise why this man refused to give the Witch his sword.

The Witch was quick to taunt him, calling him a term she'd never heard before - (what was a "cosplayer"? How did he resemble one?) - and throwing around terms she vaguely knew the meaning behind. "Police" must've been their equivalent to guards in Japan; "television" sounded like it delivered news, much like the papers that the royals read every morning. She shuddered at the thought of watching that barbarian reading each and every day, just hours before she was mistreated and belittled, and how she'd count every word his eyes passed until the very last page.

The gruff man eventually agreed after the light-voiced man confirmed that the Witch was the only one with the power to take him to another world. He growled, sheathing his sword, and thrust it violently toward the Witch. She was barely fazed as she he announced that once his curse ended, he would return for it; she merely took it without a word, and quickly turned for the light-voiced man.

She directed her gaze to him next, wondering who he was and why he sounded so alike to _him_, only to be caught off-guard and almost screaming upon the sight of him. She silenced herself as the Witch demanded the man's tattoo, stunned as he asked if his staff wasn't worth more. This man looked so much like _him_ \- a carbon copy of her lover. Aside from the clothing - which, to her surprise, even followed the very colour scheme her lover dressed in - he was exactly alike to him; even his hair was parted to the right, just as _he_ always did it.

The copy eventually gave in, letting the Witch take his tattoo. The Witch turned to her then, directing the group's attention onto her. She locked eyes with the copy, surely having a deer-in-the-headlights expression written all over her face, and quickly looked to the Witch for her price.

The Witch pointed to her left hand, and she began to panic. She was hoping she'd want her wings, given how important they were for every Archivis in existence. To her dismay, however, the Witch looked her dead in the eye and announced, "Your ring."

Frustrated, but too drained of energy to fight - to reason with the Witch - she tore the ring from her finger and threw it furiously to the ground. She ground her teeth together, biting back any words that would anger the witch, and waited patiently for the woman to pick the piece of jewelry up from the muddy ground. The Witch made no comment, thankfully, and moved on to the final traveler - the child, if she recalled.

She glanced to him, spotting the girl in his arms before anything else. She looked a little pale, as though something had weakened her, but she couldn't figure out what. The Witch questioned the boy holding the girl - both were quite young, she noted, barely into adulthood from the looks of them - and the boy agreed to her terms, barely even having heard his own price. She would've applauded him for his dedication, had she known the extent of the two children's circumstances.

As the boy agreed to accept whatever price the Witch demanded, someone emerged from the building behind the Witch. He looked slightly older than the boy and the girl, glasses perched on his nose and what appeared to be a uniform covering him. In his arms were two rabbit-like creatures, one white and one black, and both with what appeared to be a gemstone on their foreheads. He handed one to the Witch - the white one - and the Witch began to explain what the creature could do. Its name was Mokona Modoki, and it possessed the power to take the four - _five_, that girl still counted - of them to different dimensions. "Mokona can take you to different dimensions," the Witch told the foursome, "but he cannot control where you land. Your wish coming true will be based on pure luck." She held the white creature out towards the group, continuing, "But there is no such thing as coincidence in this world, only destiny. You were all destined to meet." She turned her gaze to the boy, her face unreadable.

"Syaoran," the Witch said. "Your payment is your relationship. Your most precious thing is your relationship with that girl, so I shall take it." The boy - Syaoran - questioned what the Witch meant. She was quick to answer, "Even if she finds her feathers and gets all of her memories back, you will not have the same relationship with her. Whatever you share with her, upon using Mokona, will disappear. Even if you were to return all of her memories, anything regarding you won't return - that is your price."

Syaoran looked horrified - she knew for a fact that she'd had the near-identical expression just hours earlier, upon hearing the news that two executions would take place instead of one. The price must've been hard for the boy; his face said so many words about what would be lost if the girl forgot him.

"Do you still accept," the Witch asked.

The boy barely even hesitated in his reply. "Yes," he said. "I refuse to let Sakura die."

The Witch nodded, understanding, and warned Syaoran of the dangers of traveling to other worlds - the Witch even used the rest of the group as an example, explaining that each one was from worlds of their own. She explained that the people Syaoran may know in his world would have different lives in other worlds, and it all clicked into place for her. That was why the copy looked so much like _him_\- he must've been another version of him. It made so much sense, but still remained unnerving.

The Witch explained the kinds of worlds they'd pass through, asking if Syaoran was still up to the task, and he agreed with a determined, "Yes."

Pleased by his answer, the Witch held Mokona just that little bit higher, the small creature beginning to float on its own as a magic circle appeared underneath it. Wings, pure white and certainly larger than itself, sprouted from behind it, and its tiny mouth opened to almost the size of its entire stomach. She watched in awe as air rushed into the mouth, and took in a deep breath of her own as she felt herself behind pulled into Mokona's mouth. She shielded her eyes, unsure of what to do other than just stay still, and was quick to lose consciousness as she felt the familiar whiteness encase her.

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**Again, I hope you enjoy the fic and that each character is in character ^.^ Till the next chapter~**


	2. Distance

**Oh gosh, I'm glad the last chapter was descriptive enough ^.^ I was a little worried there... Let's hope I can keep it up for the oncoming chapters, then :3**

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**01 - Distance**

It felt like ages before she finally came to again, this time lying down and somewhat clean instead of kneeling before another type of witch. She couldn't smell the blood on her anymore, which was a relief, but panic soon set in when the previous events came to mind. She'd thrown away his ring - the one thing she had that showed he considered her human, not an animal - for something as petty as finding a new purpose.

She turned to her right, fighting back tears that were just waiting to fall, and opened her eyes slowly. It was early evening, if the light shining through the window was any indication, and their location had changed. It seemed as though the Witch had kept her promise and had sent them to new a new world; but she still didn't feel as though she had a reason to continue on with life.

Maybe the Witch had lied.

Then again, to what gain was a magic-suppressing engagement ring to a witch with the power to travel dimensions?

Movement from behind her caught her attention, her ears practically moving on their own in order to hear better. It was a small action like that that made her wonder, at times, why the Archivis were more birdlike than catlike in nature and appearance. She could just imagine it now: The fluffy white cat ears that would sit atop her head, twisting and turning at every angle they could in order to hear more, learn more. The tail would be a hindrance, though.

She turned over to her other side, letting out a breath, and noticed mid-turn that the gruff man from earlier was leaning against the wall closest to her head. She ignored him, for the most part, and continued to turn; finally lying on her left, she could see fully who was beside her. Syaoran (that was his name, wasn't it?) was lying with the sleeping girl he'd arrived to the Witch with - Sakura, if she'd heard him say right back in the Witch's domain. It seemed that the girl still hadn't woken up, and neither had he; a pity. She was looking forward to finding out who the girl was and why she was so precious, why feathers were needed to be found for her.

A small laugh came from her feet, and she was too nervous to glance down and see who it was. She knew he'd be there - the Yuui lookalike - and she didn't want to face him. She wasn't sure how she'd react, having barely enough time to mourn his death, and seeing another version of him, alive and well and _having never known her_, would probably kill her inside.

"Good morning," his light voice chirped. "We were wondering when you'd wake up."

The gruff man was quick to growl, "Speak for yourself."

She didn't respond. Instead, she sat up and rubbed her eyes, checking her hair to see if it was messed up from the day's events. To her surprise, most of it was its usual self, aside from the disarray in her fringe. The two front lengths, which had previously been tied together towards the end and sat lightly on her chest, were now nearly completely apart and just barely held together by the small ribbon Yuui had given her a few years back. It was probably dirty, if she had to guess; white hair often managed to show liquids and dirt better than blonde, she'd come to learn over the years.

Without meaning to say it, she looked to the Yuui-lookalike and asked, "How do I look?"

She was half-expecting him to smile and say, _Radiant, as ever_, but was sorely reminded that this man was not her Yuui when he casually replied, "Stressed, if I'm to be honest."

Her verdict was made right then and there: No attachments were to be made with this man, and he was to be treated as a stranger - which was what he was, in a way. He wasn't Yuui, not _her_ Yuui. He was gone.

And this man was the ghost that would haunt her.

"I had a stressful day," she told him, then flopped back onto the floor unceremoniously. Her wings, tucked tightly against the skin of her back, ached at the sudden pressure. She didn't bother to alleviate the pain.

That earned another laugh from him, a remark that "stressful" was probably an understatement, if her appearance was anything to go by, and quickly began to change the topic. "We didn't quite catch your name back at the Witch's shop, did we?" he said, leaning forward a bit. He was balancing on the tip of his toes, arms resting lazily on his knees and- Oh, look, the little Mokona was still with them, perched on his shoulder with a smile.

She sighed, making her tone as exasperated as possible, and took a moment to reply. "I'm Avis Chronica, an Archivis," she ground out. "I don't expect you to know what they are, and it'd be in your best interest not to ask."

"A pleasure to meet you, Avis," he replied cheerily. "My name is Fai D. Flourite, although you're more than welcome to just call me Fai. The man in black behind you is Kurg-"

"_Kurogane_!" the gruff man bellowed. She growled, rolling onto her side, and felt her feathers ruffle in annoyance. She was surprised they were still capable of the action, being squished at the moment.

"And these two on your left are-"

"Syaoran and Sakura, I think," she cut in. Upon seeing Fai's rather surprised smile, she added, "I remember the Witch saying his name, and I believe I heard him say he didn't want 'Sakura' to die before the little Mokona was given to us."

Silence settled over them again, the conversation stopping at her knowledge of their names. It didn't pick up again until moments later, when Syaoran awoke with a start, and clutched Sakura tighter to him. A pang of guilt shot through her, and anxiety was mixed in with the guilt; she wasn't sure why, however, as she sat up properly again and listened as Fai once again introduced the group.

It was a relief that Fai had a different name, she found, but it was increasingly difficult to associate the name with his actions. He still acted much like Yuui had, cheerily saying his words and wearing an ever-present smile, rocking back and forth on his feet excitedly when he learned something new (in this case, mere names), and even the sudden reach into Syaoran's cloak, which produced a large, pale pink feather.

Avis shuddered when she caught sight of the feather, thinking of her own and the single one that stood out from the rest. She'd been born with it, apparently, and it'd been the reason why she hadn't been taken with her parents back in the early days of the country's defeat. Yuui had said it had been a source for her power, making her rare amongst the Archivis; she, like so few others, was able to use actual magic - not just Archivis illusions - and it was all thanks to that feather.

The feather that looked exactly like the one Fai had pulled from Syaoran's clothes; the feather that Syaoran held to Sakura's chest and slowly seeped into the girl's very being.

She didn't feel it necessary to inform them of her own feather, telling herself she was imagining things.

Soon after the feather was given to Sakura, Fai began to start even more idle chat amongst the group - a conversation she was forced to partake in when he arrived to the topic of travel. Kurogane seemed only interested in returning to his home, and planned on dropping the group the moment that happened; Fai was reluctant to go back to his world, informing Syaoran that he'd be happy to help search for feathers. Avis sighed when Fai asked of her plans, to which she replied she had none. She still hadn't been given a purpose, much less a world to see it through in, she told him. Mokona was quick to jump into the conversation, suddenly full of life and suggestions. "Avis can help Syaoran!" it suggested. "That can be your new purpose!"

It didn't sound like a bad idea, if it weren't for her odd feather and Fai being in the group. Ignoring the negatives, however, she agreed; it would be better for her to focus on collecting feathers, she told herself, and she'd probably be able to make a new life for herself.

"_Avis Chronica, Professional Feather Finder_". It had a nice ring to it.

They were soon joined by the residents of the house: Arashi and Sorata Arisugawa. Sorata wasn't the most mature man she'd met (many years growing up with Aloysius had given her a higher tolerance for the man's nonsense), but he served to provide the necessary information the group needed about the Dimensional Witch - Yūko, Sorata had called her. Arashi, on the other hand, was quiet, mature, and if Avis was to be entirely honest, quite beautiful. It was obvious as to why Sorata doted on her and threatened to harm Kurogane and Fai if they so much as touched her.

Looking at the woman, Avis began to feel a bit self-conscious of her own appearance. Here she was, in tattered, formerly-bloody rags that only slaves would wear, bruises that barely showed on her dark skin, while before her was a woman who looked like she'd never seen a day of life-endangering stress in her life. Avis almost felt jealous of Arashi, but her stares toward the woman were noticed too quickly for her envy to properly develop.

Arashi was quick to offer Avis a set of clothes ("Keep them, really. They'll be better than what you have now, I'm sure."), even going as far as guiding her down the hall of their house and into the couple's bathroom, handing the clothing to Avis with a small smile. She briefly explained what the articles were as she handed her a pair of flat-soled shoes (it'd been a while since Avis had even touched a pair).

"The dress is called an _ao dai_," she explained, unfolding the first half of the ensemble. It was the colour of gold, nearly matching Avis's eyes, and had long sleeves that stopped just past the elbows. A slit from both sides of the waist separated the back and front pieces of fabric, but certainly left little to the imagination. That was when Arashi unfolded the second half of the ensemble - a pair of loose brown pants that easily fit under the fabric of the dress. "They're always worn with a pair of pants underneath. Sorata bought me this one during our trip to Vietnam - I've outgrown it, but I have a feeling it'll fit you."

It had taken a few tries (Avis's wings continuously pushed against the back of the dress, threatening to rip it apart, until she asked Arashi for anything to hold them down), and by the time she was dressed and ready to leave, the men were already waiting for her outside. Their search for a feather belonging to Sakura was apparently beginning shortly after arriving in the unfamiliar world. Avis thanked Arashi for her dress, then cautiously approached the males with a suspicious stare trained on each of them.

They were all dressed in what she assumed was the norm for this world - the "Republic of Hanshin", as Syaoran helpfully supplied upon her reunion with them - and were apparently eagerly awaiting her. She raised a curious brow at the thought, at the fact that they had waited on _her_, but otherwise nodded at the gesture of patience from them. As soon as they began walking, hoping that they would happen upon a feather whilst wandering, Mokona explained the basic necessities of the world - currency, economy, food, writing (which, it seemed, that only Fai could not read, as his country did not use the symbols Hanshin did. If the signs she was seeing everywhere were an indication, neither could Avis), and most especially _kudan_. Creatures that Sorata had described as what haunted the world, and that everyone had - even people not from this world. Mokona seemed especially excited at the prospect of seeing a _kudan_, particularly one that would belong to one of the boys. "So cool and mysterious," it had chirped happily. "Their _kudan_ just _have_ to be the most awesomest thing you'll ever see."

Avis wasn't about to argue, or admit she was curious.

_Kudan_ were apparently something a person could use as a weapon in a pinch, Syaoran had been sure to add, and that it was a relief even they had _kudan_ since virtually everyone in their group was without magical ability or weapons. Three sets of eyes landed on Avis as soon as he'd brought it up, and immediately she knew she was going to be interrogated.

"Kurogane had given up his sword and I had given up a tattoo that was at the root of my powers," Fai informed her, "whilst Syaoran and Sakura came here with neither. I see no weapon on you, but you certainly came to the Witch's realm with some kind of spell. I must ask: Do you possess any magical abilities?"

_Illusions. Enhanced learning. Small dabbling in destructive magic. That one spell that hopefully massacred a crowd of Bellatorans_.

"In a sense," she replied slowly.

"Would you be willing to use it to aid us? In the search of Sakura's feathers, I mean." Fai paused, then added lightly, "Although help in tricky situations would not go unappreciated."

She feigned consideration, then replied shortly, "I would not."

That seemed to touch a nerve with Kurogane, who insisted that using her magic would probably serve to get him home sooner, what with all the feathers it would help find. Avis rolled her eyes at him, felt her wings strain against the bandages holding them down in annoyance, and walked a little faster. She announced that she would search for feathers on her own whilst the boys stayed in their group, making up the additional excuse of learning about the Republic of Hanshin at her own pace - which, when asked about, she proudly said to them, "Probably quicker than yours."

It was rude, yes; but was she here to make friends? No. Avis was here to find feathers because _apparently_ a little white dimension-traveling creature suggested it.

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**Ahhh, bit of a filler-y chapter, but this is the length I'm going to stick with for each chapter - just thought I'd point this out now ^^" I'll get started on the next chapter ASAP and get proper plot moving, and it would be much appreciated if anyone could let me know if I've made anyone seem out of character :0  
**


	3. Someone Dear

**Welp, it's been a good few months since I updated so why the heck not. Think of it as a Mother's Day update or something? Idk, but I hope you all enjoy!**

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**02 - Someone Dear  
**

As soon as she knew the boys weren't right behind her, she turned for the nearest alleyway and leaned against the brick wall. Avis was near-breathless, her stomach curling as the past twenty-four hours caught up with her. Yuui was dead - her fiance and best friend was _dead_.

The thought passed her mind over and over, the images of the execution flashing before her eyes. Unable to hold down the sick feeling in her stomach, she turned for one of the nearby metal cylinders and lifted the lid. The contents stank of garbage, which only served to make her throw up inside it quicker. By the time she was done, she was sweating and shaking, throat burning and a foul taste left in her mouth. She'd barely even noticed how much time had passed, and idly wondered if the trio had found anything new by now.

Avis dared a peek outside the alley, finally giving herself the time to take in the city - or at least this part of it. There were lights and flashing images everywhere, people as far as the eye could see. She couldn't remember a time when she'd been around so many people, had seen so many eyes and ears engrossed in mere daily living. Amongst them all, she suspected, not a single person had lived a life similar to her own - not a single one lived in a world of dog-eat-dog and every man for himself. It gave her both a sense of jealousy and relief - jealousy, that she was the one who had to endure such abhorrent conditions; relief, that entire generations were as close to being at peace as she had ever seen in her lifetime.

Another wave of nausea passed over her, stomach curling in rebellion as she tried to calm herself down. She breathed in and out slowly, deeply, and took a few steps back towards the garbage; she suddenly whirled around on her heel and tossed the lid of the cylinder away frantically and dry heaved into the garbage. Nothing came up this time, but the taste of bile was too obvious to ignore. After a few minutes of heavy coughing, Avis pushed herself away from the garbage and let out a breath. Her stomach no longer rebelled; the only thing she could taste or smell more than bile was expired food and drinks. All was right with her immune system for now.

A hand landed on her shoulder - immediately she reacted. Her first thought was to whack the person behind her with one of her wings, but soon remembered that the appendages were held tightly in place by the bandages around her torso. Instead, Avis whirled around and grabbed the wrist, flung the offender at the opposite wall, and readied her other fist to deal a hard punch to the jaw. The offender groaned and raised their arms in defense, but the blow never came.

Another hand had seized her own; a gruff voice followed, demanding to know what her deal was. Avis blinked, defensive instincts fading, and soon recognised who it was she had been just about ready to beat to a pulp. The panic that coursed through Avis brought back the nausea, but she fought extra hard to keep it down as she resisted against her assailants. Her stomach lurched as a loud voice finally clicked in her mind: The ninja.

Kurogane shook her arm again as Fai came to Syaoran's aid, pulling the boy away from the two adults. Avis scowled and attempted to pull her wrist out of Kurogane's grip, but only succeeded in making her stomach lurch once more at the exertion.

"What the hell is your problem?!" Kurogane went on.

Deciding that she did not want to projectile vomit on this angry warrior holding onto her with a vice grip, she ceased struggling and tried to steady her breathing. "Defensive instinct," she said. "Archivis - we follow a natural instinct to violently attack anything that sneaks up on us. To protect our wings, I mean," she added. It was a half-truth - Archivis certainly did teach their young how to defend themselves from attacks coming from behind, purely to keep their wings safe. But Avis's generation had never been given the chance - Bellatorans took over the land, and suddenly an entire culture was outlawed and replaced with another. Traditions like hunting on the eve of a new season and exchanging books in place of money - everything was gone.

Avis had had to teach herself how to defend her wings, and that had been a challenge in itself.

Kurogane appeared to dislike her answer, but released her nonetheless. She rubbed her wrist, shook her hand to get the blood flowing again, and jumped when Fai wandered over to them curiously.

"You look rather tired," he noted. "Are you unwell?"

She shrugged and lied, "My kind learn things at a rate that's above what most consider average. This world is a lot to take in, and I'm struggling to not take in too much at a time."

"Would you like to return to Arashi and Sorata's house?"

"No." Avis shook her head. "I'm fine. Just- Yeah, I'm fine."

Immediately after she regained her breath, she made her way to Syaoran and apologised for almost attacking him. He seemed to understand her reasoning, forgave her and said he should've said something to indicate his presence rather than startle her.

They began searching once more, this time with Mokona and Syaoran engaging Avis in avid conversation. Syaoran held a particular interest in the wings she had mentioned having, while Mokona was more interested in what kind of world she lived in. Her answers were short ("Big, white; no, I'm not showing you. Vast, wet; no, I don't particularly want to go back right now.") and eventually stopped altogether, the two appearing let down at Avis' reluctance to talk about her world and her wings. Fai and Kurogane stayed behind the trio, silent as could be, until finally they wound up back at the house they'd started from.

The ninja had decided to make it blatantly obvious that today's efforts had been a waste of time, followed by the annoyed critique to find a better way than just wandering to find the "Goddamn feather, already". They entered the home again, made themselves comfy in their respective rooms, and reported to Arashi today's events. She threw out the suggestion of coming up with a routine to follow, a plan to help them find the feather; Syaoran and Fai liked the sound of the idea, immediately holding a meeting between the group in the room Sakura was sleeping in.

"We need to think of it like a treasure hunt," Fai said cheerily. "Only we don't know if the treasure is a place, person, or item."

Mokona bounced up and down on Syaoran's shoulder, reminding everyone that it would sense the feather's power straight away when they got close. Fai nodded in approval, then looked to the group for suggestions. "I can't quite use my magic to track down the feather," he noted, "mostly due to the fact that I doubt magic could even trace it. I have a feeling Syaoran may be as in the dark as I am." He looked to the younger boy in question, waiting for confirmation. Syaoran simply nodded and told the group that he wasn't sure how to find the feather with his current knowledge.

"That leaves Kuro-rin and Vivi," Fai sang. Avis twitched at the nickname, remembering every other time Yuui had called her that. It had been like a codename - in case the notes he would send her were stolen or read by someone else.

While Kurogane yelled at Fai for the childish nickname, Avis merely glared daggers at him. He seemed to take enjoyment from their annoyance, and she had the slightest feeling that this wouldn't be the only time he'd do it.

"Well?" he prompted. "Any ideas?"

Avis had a few, recalling the ways Aloysius had always succeeded in games like tag or hide and seek. _I just know where all the good spots are_, he'd say, _and the rest is child's play_.

She laughed quietly as she thought back to the one time she'd thought she knew where he hid all the time, only to be proven wrong when searching till sundown bore no fruit. Aloysius had felt so bad when she'd finally given up and holed herself up in her room - bad enough that he'd put together a hastily drawn map that labeled all of the good hiding places he knew of and stuck it on the back of her door.

She wasn't even aware that she'd zoned out until Mokona jumped up and collided with her face, knocking her onto her back with a grunt. Avis quickly sat back up, allowing the small white thing to land in her lap, and looked between the three men with wide eyes.

"The hell are you findin' so funny?" Kurogane demanded. Avis shrugged, leaned back on the palms of her hands, and looked to Syaoran curiously.

"Do you think Arashi or Sorata have a map of the area? Or if there's any outside?"

Straight away, Syaoran jumped to his feet and ran off to find Arashi. He was gone for a few moments, yelling out to the others that there was indeed a map in the house, and then the trio waited as he and Arashi left to find it.

"Care to reveal this marvelous plan of yours, Vivi?"

Once again she glared at Fai, but still replied, "Method my brother used in games. Find all the good hiding places, learn about them, and the rest is child's play."

The reminder that the feather could be anywhere, more so in _anything_, was raised. She went on to explain that that would be where Mokona came in - if they followed any major areas where a lot of people were, taking Mokona with them, they'd be bound to run into something powerful enough to catch its attention. "A market or a major building," she suggested. "Even popular areas like a park or something."

Fai clapped in praise while Kurogane grumbled about how much time this plan would take up, to which Avis grumbled back that her purpose didn't involve doing a sloppy job because someone was too impatient to wait. Kurogane snapped at her, ready to give her a good shouting to, but was interrupted by both Mokona leaping at his face and Syaoran returning with what was assumed to be a map.

"From the looks of it," Syaoran said, "we've already covered this area and found nothing." He ran his index finger along a set of lines in the map, passing over words Avis could not read. "Which would leave a few immediate areas we could investigate."

Fai clapped twice, pleased with the small progress. "How about you two mark some spots we can look at tomorrow?" he said. He quickly jumped to his feet and waited for Mokona to jump into his arms, cuddling the small creature as he turned on his heel. "Meanwhile, I'll go see if Arashi can brew us some tea."

* * *

_Each step she took was light and without purpose. Beneath her feet she felt the heat of the sand, felt each grain get caught between her toes._

_Never before had she seen this place. Never before had she dreamed it. Yet here it was - here, in this dream that existed deep within her thoughts - waiting to be explored._

_Hills of sand shifted with each change of the wind's course; in the horizon shapes rose and fell, their creator unsatisfied with the outcome. As she treaded further and further towards the horizon, past dust clouds and ever-changing hills, she thought idly to herself how this place came to be._

_Avis began to list what she knew out loud, hoping someone heard her. "'Tis a desert," she noted. "Endless, from the looks of it. Something is moving the sand, creating and refusing the maintain one shape."_

_The hill she began to scale suddenly disappeared, leaving a drop that Avis was quick to descend. She yelped once when she landed, felt the sand get caught in her clothes; that didn't stop her from getting back up and trying to get to the root of the shifting sands. She continued to wander, this time with purpose, towards the horizon. "Impatient," she added. "Confused. Probably stubborn as all hell-"_

_As her left foot strode forward, the sand began to whirl beneath her. Avis shrieked, arms flailing as she spun and sank. "Hostile," she yelled, hoping the sand heard her loud and clear. "Short-tempered."_

_The sand ceased its shifting, leaving her caught knee-deep in the newly formed hill; as soon as it did, sand rolled towards her, took shape. Finally the sand circled around her again, coiling around whatever wasn't submerged in sand. She was held tightly in place as the sand froze, waiting for a new shape to take form, and then stared in horror as it morphed into a snake's head staring her down._

_It hissed once out of curiosity, then began to change shape once more - this time to a human torso and head, leaning towards her as the face was sculpted to resemble _someone._ Avis waited and waited with her breath held until finally she was face to face with her brother._

_"Prone to lashing out in defense," Aloysius added to her list. She squinted at the sand, unable to let out even a wheeze of breath in surprise; it sounded so much like him, but the voice was so grainy and unclear - almost as though she were listening through floorboards._

_"I-" She tried to come up with something, anything to respond with. "You-"_

_Aloysius smiled, and then his face morphed into Yuui's. Avis felt her heart lurch into her throat. "You're a creature of vast knowledge," Yuui told her. "Much like my form, your thoughts are endless and deceiving."_

_"The sand?" she choked out. Yuui nodded and laughed deviously, face morphing into that of Lady Euphemia. Flashes of memories passed by her, all of them containing the same jealous, vindictive Bellatoran noble she was staring down with pure hatred._

_Lady Euphemia reached out to take hold of Avis' chin with slender fingers, only to stop with a smirk when Avis yelled venomously, "Don't touch me!"_

_That earned her a long, shrill laugh; as Lady Euphemia leaned back to guffaw heartily, her long curls fell from her head and joined the sand once more. When she leaned forward again, she had taken the form of Aloysius once more._

_"I am the one who watches and waits," he explained to her. The sand holding her upper body in place fell apart, allowing her to move her arms once more. "The qualities you have listed apply to the both of us, I would say."_

_She considered his words with a hum, subtly trying to pull herself out of the sand as she did so. Aloysius went on, "It's a funny thing, waiting for so long to find someone whose heart is _just right_." Aloysius fell apart, only to reform once again as Lady Euphemia. "And I think yours is _just that_."_

_Just as Avis had pulled herself out of the sand, pillars rose around her and came crashing down in her direction. As the sand buried her in the last precious seconds she could spare, she watched as Lady Euphemia fell apart and became nothing but sand once more._

She awoke with a jolt, breathing heavily as her body and mind had to remember that it was only a dream - nothing more than a dream. Avis sat up and rubbed up and down her arms, patted her legs, felt her face; everything was fine. She was in the Hanshin Republic. She was away from the desert and Lady Euphemia.

Air. She needed some air. Avis stumbled to her feet and scurried over to a nearby window, doing her best to make sure she didn't wake the rest of the group in the room. She unlocked the latch and opened the window quietly, inhaling deeply as the fresh air blew into the room.

Slowly she turned around and leaned back against the wall beneath the window, allowing the breeze to hit only her head. The light from outside illuminated the room; from her spot she could see everyone was still asleep - even Kurogane, who looked as though sleeping lightly was part of his job description. She released a relieved breath and turned back around to face the window, deciding to admire the view for a bit longer while s got the fresh air she desperately needed.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed - the big screen, as Sorata had called the flashing square on the building across them, was distracting her rather well with its random scenes of food, clothing, and houses. Avis wasn't even sure she'd heard anyone stir from their sleep while she was admiring the view. She was more than certain someone was awake though, especially when a quiet voice said behind her, "You'll catch a cold just sitting there."

Syaoran was behind her, a folded blanket tucked under his arm while his own blanket was draped over his shoulders. Avis shrugged and slid the window almost shut, leaving only the tiniest amounts of wind to blow in at a time. She took the blanket the boy offered and wrapped it around herself. "Can't sleep?" she asked him. He shrugged in return and sat down beside her, immediately training his gaze on the sleeping Sakura.

"I just had a strange dream," was all he said, and then he turned her question against her. Avis shrugged back, repeated his own reply. Silence fell over them as they watched their respective areas, barely making eye contact as time began to pass once more.

"You're dedicated," Avis muttered after a while. "Doing everything you can for her, I mean. It's commendable."

Syaoran glanced at her warily. "I just can't bear to lose her. She means too much to me and everyone else back home."

"In a way, you've still lost her. She won't remember you, correct?"

He nodded grimly, face paling considerably as the reminder hit him. Avis sighed to herself and lifted her left hand from under the blanket, staring at the finger the engagement ring used to rest on. "It may sound selfish or insensitive of me, but I know how you feel," she told him. "Somewhat, at least."

"You do?"

"Yes." She curled her fingers into her palm, clenching her fist tightly. The finger looked so out of place now, lacking the one thing she truly owned and appreciated. "After all, you and I lost someone special on the same day. The only difference is that you have a chance to start over, reclaim that bond."

Syaoran leaned towards her slightly, curious. "You left someone dear in your world?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes," she said. "And I doubt I'll ever get him back."


	4. Kudan

_**[Flings myself back into the Tsubasa fandom after 84 years]**_

* * *

**03 - Kudan**

The yawn pushed past Avis's lips as Sorata continued on his farewell for the day. The sun had risen a few hours after she and Syaoran had fallen back to sleep, the window left afar so that the cool wind could hit Avis's face, and in the end he had been right—she'd woken up feeling chilled to the bone and on the verge of the cold. Despite the vague challenge of sickness she faced, she decided that for now she was well enough to continue her search for this world's feather.

Sakura was still sound asleep as Arashi saw them out alongside her husband, who still droned on and on about how reliable and beautiful his wife was. Avis stretched, doing her best not to tear the dress and let her wings pop out, and felts the contents of her borrowed cardigan shift with the movement. She'd taken a what Arashi had called a notepad and pen, given a quick demonstration on how to use the pen, and decided to record not only her findings on clues that could very well lead them to a feather, but also record information regarding this country.

Arashi reminded her husband that he'd be late for work—(Avis cannot believe that this man _teaches_ people)—and Sorata was quick to throw what looked to be a wallet in the shape of a toad at Syaoran. Kurogane protested and demanded to know why Syaoran, a child, was in charge of their money—to which Sorata deemed Syaoran to be the "least suspicious" of the four of them whilst making a break for the streets.

"Remember to keep a close eye on Mokona," Arashi told them. "Finding the feather will be easier if you pay attention to any reactions."

Mokona, having proved itself to be a particularly bouncy and energetic member of the group, was perched gleefully on Fai's shoulder as Kurogane further complained about Mokona needing to stay with them. Avis huffed at their immature exchange. As soon as Arashi disappeared back into the house, Avis reached into the cardigan's pocket and pulled the notepad out, searching through the notes she had so far. Arashi had been kind enough to show her the language of the area once they'd figured out how they were going to tackle finding the feather, copying names of streets and buildings onto a page at the very end of the pad and saying them out loud to each of them. Kurogane, for the most part, was the most familiar with the words and symbols, while Syaoran and Fai did well enough to mimic the sounds and recognise a select few.

Learning the new words had been a challenge for Avis. She'd never encountered a language in which the same word could be written in different symbols, taking on a different meaning and making entirely different words when combined with another unrelated symbol.

Everything seemed to fall into an organised pace after they were seen off. A good few areas on Avis's list were crossed off before they'd arrived at a bustling area filled with people rushing towards their workplaces and schools. A young girl with a piece of toasted bread balanced between her teeth almost barrelled into Avis, causing the tanned woman to shrink in on herself and let out a small grumble. The boys were all amazed by the high towers and small buildings bundled into blocks around the towers, but Syaoran at least took notice of her discomfort.

Mokona hopped from Fai's shoulder to Syaoran's as the brunet boy looked to Avis with a worried glance. "Are you okay? This isn't too much to take in, is it?"

She shrugged and returned her attention to the notepad again. "I'm fine," she dismissed. "It usually doesn't take a toll if I don't pay too much attention—I just don't really like people bumping into me right now."

_An understatement_, she thought sarcastically.

Syaoran nodded and put a short distance between the two of them, looking to her cautiously to confirm he'd done the right thing. She threw him a small, appreciative smile, and left it at that.

Almost immediately after their exchange, Fai skipped ahead and pointed to a clear view of buildings of varying height, all lined up in a row, and remarked, "All these small ones bunched up next to big ones! Syaoran, have you ever seen this kind of thing?"

"No, never. Have you?"

Fai dodged his question and turned for Avis and Kurogane. "Vivi, Kuro-tan! Have you?"

Unlike Kurogane—who not only graced Fai with a loud, angry answer but also demanded he stop calling him cutesy nicknames—Avis huffed again and sped up her pace, keeping an eye open for signs that had the same symbols as the ones on her notepad.

They continued to pass people and the morning rush seemed to calm down somewhat, the people who had been panicked over the time they had left outnumbered by those who didn't have a care in the world. Many groups of young, teenage girls passed by—all of them dressed in strange uniforms that varied, from jackets to sashes to uncoordinated outfits—and with each passing, the majority of the groups would look in Syaoran's direction and giggle amongst themselves before continuing on.

It wasn't until one particular girl, whose long brown hair was clipped out of her face, remarked to her friend, "It's so small and cute!" that Avis figured out it wasn't _Syaoran_ they were all getting worked up about.

"Someone's popular," she muttered, just loud enough for the others to hear. Kurogane was quick to join in, teasing the small creature.

"They're laughing at _you_," he snickered.

Mokona's gem practically gleamed joyfully as it posed proudly on Syaoran's scalp. "Mokona has many girlfriends."

Whatever argument was going to start between Kurogane and his ticket out of the Republic of Hanshin was stopped abruptly by the sales pitch of a man running a stall at the edge of the path. Avis protested quietly that they didn't have time to get distracted by a food stall, but the boys all seemed to ignore her as they moved to investigate the apples the man had to sell. Avis fidgeted on her feet and looked anywhere but at the stand, refusing to let herself be distracted; in the end, she retreated to the boys' sides as a headache began to set in, her eyes darting from one place to another too quickly for her mind to register everything.

There was a short conversation on what constituted as an "apple" in everyone's worlds—which soon led to a distracted debate that the shopkeeper was quick to end. They each bought an apple to snack on, remarking what they called this particular food in their worlds was, and eventually came to a stop at a short bridge built over a river. Avis didn't immediately bite into her apple, resting it on her knee when she sat down against the rail while the boys leaned against it and chewed on their own.

None of them asked what she was doing—it become fairly obvious once she'd pulled the notepad from her pocket again and hurried began to sketch the apple with the pen. Much like the pieces of charcoal and the quills used by the nobles of Bellator, the pen was painfully difficult to get used to in regards to mistakes and pressure. A very rough image of the apple was on the page by the time she got used to it, written underneath in her own country's language, "Grape (Archiva), Apple (Hanshin)."

She barely even realised that the boys were waiting on her for an answer, biting into her apple innocently and looking to them to figure out the reason for their silence. Fai, with those big blue eyes of his, smiled sweetly at her and repeated, "How did you find yourself at the Witch's doorstep? Syaoran and Sakura were apparently sent by the priest of their land."

A thoughtful, careful response was needed for this question. She still wasn't entirely certain as to how she'd even managed to pull off such a feat of magic in the first place, now that she thought about it; sure, magic in Archiva was built and structured around willpower and emotion, but even then anger alone isn't enough to cast two things at once. She knew for a fact that she had cast a spell to practically _destroy_ the crowd gathered at the stage, so how did she manage to send herself to Yūko so soon after?

"'How', indeed," she muttered. Avis took another bite of her apple before adding in a louder voice, "I sent myself."

Fai let out a curious hum. "Amazing—but may I ask why?"

Avis hesitated in her reply, uncertain if she could trust these people after just a day of knowing them. Syaoran seemed likeable enough, polite and respectful towards her needs and Avis won't deny she saw a piece of herself in him last night, during their conversation, but he was still just a stranger; Kurogane was too abrasive and loud, and would probably hold some kind of black and white view of the world—a horrible personality to pair with someone who was to be executed for a technical charge of high treason; and then there was Fai, her fiancé's lookalike and the most secretive of the bunch. She couldn't be sure if anyone else had notice it, but he always danced around people's questions about his world and pretended to never hear them.

Sure, Avis did the same in her own blunt way, but at least she had told Syaoran and Mokona that her own homeland was vast and wet, while Fai had left them all to assume that his was cold and covered in snow, just based on his clothing.

Avis barely got a chance to settle on a reply, let alone think of a believable one—Kurogane let out a loud, _humph_, and scolded Fai. "Even you should've thought of a few good reasons why, mage," he growled. "Covered in blood and looking like she'd seen a ghost? I'd be willing to bet it was to escape a war-torn land or something. Right?" he added, leaning back and smirking at Avis. He looked so proud to have figured out why she was with them, unaware that he was off the mark with his assumption.

"If I were younger, yes," she said simply. "Yes, it would've been to escape my land during its war with our neighbours. Now? You'll have to wait for _me_ to tell you, after that smug guess of yours."

Fai pouted and complained that Kurogane had spoiled the fun, that playful smile ever present on his face as he did so. He was quick to break out of his "upset" state and soon turned on Kurogane, demanding of him, "Alright, Kuro-rin; since you made Vivi upset, you have to spill the beans as to how _you_ got sent to the Witch!"

He rolled his red eyes and grumbled that he'd told Fai to stop with the nicknames—a desire Avis still shared, despite not voicing it these past few times they've been brought up. Regardless of his desire to be called by his name, Kurogane leaned back against the rail and announce that he was also sent by someone else—a priestess of his country, who had sent him away as punishment he saw no fairness in. Fai was quick to quip that Kurogane had been given the boot, striking a nerve with Kurogane.

Despite how secretive Fai had been yesterday and today, he was quick to answer Kurogane's question about his own methods of meeting the Witch. Fai, like Avis, had transported himself to Yūko's doorstep and asked for help in his travels—the reasoning behind, he explained shortly after, being that jumping dimensions would take everything he had, and he only had enough power to jump _once_.

Her first thought, as Fai continued his explanation with a slowly dulling expression, was that her magic may have been used up in her last ditch effort to fight back against the oppressors of Archiva as well as her decidedly random travel to Yūko's store. A shortage of magic was not something she was familiar with—it was never used enough to get to that point, despite all the research and practice that went into her illusions.

Upon the mention of Syaoran's country's priest, her thoughts shifted to another revelation—the priest must've _known_ that Sakura's feathers would scatter across dimensions, and had sent them to Yūko if his magic was only enough for one trip. She bit into the apple and finished the last of it, twirling the core in her hands as she chewed thoughtfully.

"So the Witch is the only one who has enough power for more than one journey?" she asked herself.

A scream rang out through the air all of a sudden, surprising them as they each whirled in the direction of the source. People were clamouring to get away from one group of men dressed in similar jumpsuits, menacing looks in their eyes as they glared up at a group of youths standing atop a store—also dressed in similar clothing, right down to the leader's scarf and goggles.

Avis groaned and rose to her feet, tucking the notepad and pen back in her pocket. "What _now_?" she growled. Mokona hopped from Syaoran's head to her shoulder, sneakily stealing the core of her apple and devouring it as she and the others tried to get a closer look at the commotion.

A man at the front of the jumpsuit group yelled something about taking a neighbourhood, and immediately Avis recognised it for what it was: A territorial battle. Her stomach churned and anxiety welled up in her chest—these people weren't armed with just weapons, they had _kudan_. The level of destruction these people could wreck would break past just casualties and building damage, and from the looks of things they weren't exactly the types of groups who took care not to harm bystanders in the midst of battle.

Avis reached for the empty pocket of her cardigan and held it open, whispering to Mokona, "Pocket. Now."

The white creature barely put up a fight, retreating into the space it just barely fit into and peeking over the edge curiously.

"They look pretty cool," Fai said. He was grinning excitedly, standing on the tips of his toes to get a better look. The men in the jumpsuits mentioned a "special _kudan_", and it wasn't long before a battle broke out between the two groups.

The ones on the store leapt down wordlessly after their leader threw a downward-pointing thumb at the jumpsuits, a burst of light flashing as creatures of all sizes and shapes appeared alongside the rivals. Avis was starting to see the "cool" side of this, if it even counted as such—she'd never seen such interesting creatures, much less witnessed them shoot fire and beams of light from their mouths or eyes while their masters yelled taunts at each other.

The bystanders were soon yelling at the groups as well, complaining about how reckless this fight was and that people didn't have time to navigate the streets with all the hostility. Bigger _kudan_ entered the scene, smashing things and knocking people over, and Avis had no choice but to hold on to the bridge's rain for dear life as it trembled under the impact.

For a moment she thought that this would be the bulk of the fight—everyone would have to put up with all these creatures wrecking havoc on the streets—but her assumption was soon disproven by the appearance of one last _kudan_. It resembled a manta ray, composed entirely of water and glistening in the sun's light, and she could almost predict what its ability would be. Water spilled out from its body in waves, washing down the earth and knocking over people in all directions. Avis's heart beat wildly in her chest as the first wave crashed into her as well as the others, knocking them over and throwing them into the rail. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, feeling the wet clothing cling to her and the chill of cold air bite into her skin.

Syaoran cried out for someone to watch out, prompting her to open her eyes. Beside her, on either side of her, were an equally soaked Kurogane and Fai—both looking like complete opposites in their reactions to the first wave. For a split second she saw Syaoran sprint past them, and then another wave was blasted in their direction. This time, Kurogane and Fai huddled in her direction and also clung to the rail, preparing to stand their ground against what looked to be a tougher wave. Avis felt for the cardigan's pocket—Mokona was still in it, miraculously—and grasped Mokona's ears apologetically while one hand remained on the rail.

The wave crashed into them, knocking their breaths away, and then all of a sudden it disappeared—replaced by a strong heat that came from the middle of the bridge, turning half of the water into steam and surrounding the area with a temporary mist. Once it cleared, she could see the source of it all—Syaoran, kneeling in front of two young boys his own age who appeared to have fallen in the commotion just as the second wave began.

As he kneeled before the boys, a flame hovered above him. Avis released Mokona and rose to her feet clumsily, realising that Syaoran's intervention had done more than just prevent them all from being swept away. The owner of the manta _kudan_—a young man with long grey hair, his eyes hidden behind a pair of reflective goggles—stood above everyone else on the store once more, though his attention was more than obviously on Syaoran more than the rival gang.

The young man smirked as Syaoran rose, standing beside the hovering flame; with a decisive tone, he stated to Syaoran, "You have a special _kudan_, don't you?"

An impending sense of dread hit Avis as she recognised the tone in his voice—playful and eager, begging for a challenge.


End file.
